


Shanksgiving

by Bajillian



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Shanks and Marco are married, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Dinner, puns, rated for the start of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27726245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bajillian/pseuds/Bajillian
Summary: Shanks does something nice for Marco this Thanksgiving.
Relationships: Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks/Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	Shanksgiving

**Author's Note:**

> Whether or not you celebrate Thanksgiving, I'm going to wish you a happy _Shanks_ giving! :)

It wasn’t often that Shanks woke up before Marco, since Marco was used to starting his day early and Shanks liked to sleep in. But because the red-haired man was such a good - and handsome, don’t forget handsome - husband, he wanted to do something nice. It was a time to celebrate, after all. Why not surprise Marco with a delicious feast?

Shanks had made himself a list of things he wanted to prepare the night before, since he knew he’d have to be up at an unbelievably early hour to have time to cook the turkey. Luckily, he’d gotten a smaller one, but it still took a couple hours to cook. He could use that time to make the rest of the food he had listed: mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn, and cranberry sauce. It certainly wasn’t the entire Thanksgiving meal experience, but he was only one man with a deadline.

Before he could even think about starting the food, he had to put on his outfit. Everyone knew a good chef dressed for the job… and his outfit of choice was nothing except for an apron that read ‘gobble me, swallow me’ right on the chest. Marco would absolutely hate it, so it was perfect.

He tried not to make too much noise as he got out anything he’d need from the fridge and cabinets. Getting out the food was pretty easy. It was the pots and pans that caused some trouble. Despite Marco telling him over and over to put things back neatly, Shanks didn’t listen, and now it was coming back to bite him. Luckily, nothing that fell was fragile enough to break. They were, however, loud enough to clang against every surface they hit into. Shanks cursed under his breath and bent down to pick them up.

A minute later, a grouchy-looking Marco walked into the kitchen to meet Shanks’ bare ass. He was no stranger to the sight, it was just a surprise to see at… how early was it?

“Shanks, what… are you doing?”

Shanks nearly dropped the pots all over again, but he quickly stood up and turned around with a smile. “You shouldn’t be awake yet!” he said. “It’ll ruin the surprise.”

Marco blinked. He had to be dreaming, right? Shanks wasn’t this ridiculous-- okay, yes he was. “What surprise?” he asked. “Why are you nude in our kitchen?”

Shanks kept the pots in front of his chest so Marco couldn’t read the words on it yet. It was part of the whole _experience._ “Don’t worry about it. It’ll all make sense soon,” he said. “Now go, you need your sleep, old man.”

Marco scoffed. “I’m not _that_ much older than you,” he said. Still, he gave Shanks a pat on the ass before making his way back to their bedroom. He was too tired for Shanks’ shit right now.

Shanks giggled before turning to the sink to put the dropped pots into it. He only washed what he needed to use, the others could be taken care of later. Once all of the materials were laid out, he reached for his laptop, pulled up a few recipes, and put on some soft tunes.

Shanks worked fast, but careful. Like he was tending to an impatient lover. He gave the turkey a gentle spank, then confirmed that he definitely did not get enough sleep last night. Still, he thought he was funny. While the turkey was in the oven, he warmed up some creamy mashed potatoes, then the stuffing, and finally the corn. The cranberry sauce was the easiest part, but it was necessary to add that sweet flavor into the mix. Plus, he had some _plans_ with those later. If he could execute it correctly, he was going to deem himself sexiest chef of the year.

Though, he already considered himself to be upholding that title.

All that was left was the presentation, which was equally as important than the food itself, and he had a damn great vision of what he wanted his meal to look like. The turkey would go in the middle, with the bowls of mashed potatoes, stuffing, and corn surrounding it. But none of those would be the table’s finest dish. Oh, no. 

Shanks himself would lay on his side right on top of the table with the food in front of him. The apron he was still wearing would be pulled down to offer a teasing glimpse of his right ass cheek, wearing some of the cranberry sauce in the shape of a heart that he’d lovingly crafted. Marco would cry tears of joy and tell Shanks that it was the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten, though not as delicious as the chef himself. Then Shanks would tell him he would like a meal of his own, punctuated by a wiggle of his eyebrows. Marco would rip his clothes off then and there, and they would fuck. 

Probably. 

That was where Shanks’ mind had gone, at least. 

He was extra careful this time so as not to let anything else fall and reverse all of this hard work. It was all coming together how he’d imagined, but before he could put himself on the table, he would need to wake Marco.

Shanks knocked on the door before opening it a crack, letting only his head peek through - even if Marco had seen him already, there was still a slim chance his tired brain had forgotten or maybe chalked it up to being a dream. He wondered how many sexy chef Shanks dreams Marco’s subconscious had made up before.

Ah, he was getting distracted.

“Marco, dear,” Shanks said. “I have a surprise for you in the kitchen.”

Marco shifted a bit before his eyes fluttered open, and he smiled once his vision focused on Shanks. “Mm, just gimme a minute and I’ll be there,” he said, already reaching for his glasses.

“Take your time, I still have to put some of the… finishing touches on it.” Shanks blew him a kiss before speed walking back to the kitchen. Just as carefully as he had placed the food on the table, maybe even more, he positioned himself behind the food and spooned enough cranberry sauce to draw on the heart. It was beautiful.

He didn’t have to wait too long for Marco to make his way into the kitchen, and when he saw Shanks, he froze. While his mind processed the sight before him, a smirk appeared on his face.

“Happy Shanksgiving, my love.”

Marco walked closer and raised an eyebrow when he saw the cranberry sauce heart. “You’re unbelievable,” he said with a chuckle. “Am I supposed to have this now or later?”

Shanks smiled. “It depends, would you like to eat with me or on me?”

“Dear, the food is hot,” Marco said, still chuckling. “I don’t think burning your skin is going to be sexy.”

“Ooh, are these some doctor’s orders I’m getting?” Shanks asked. He stuck his finger into the mashed potatoes, scooped some out, and then sucked it clean.

Marco watched intently, and it almost seemed as if he was going to take back his statement. It was tempting. Still, his rational brain knew he didn’t want to risk Shanks getting hurt. “Yes. Doctor’s orders,” he said. “But…”

Shanks raised his eyebrows and watched as Marco came even closer, a hungry look in his eyes. 

“This isn’t hot, is it?” Marco leaned down and ran his tongue flat against the cranberry sauce heart. He did it a few times until Shanks’ skin was clean, and then he stood up straight.

Shanks had a smug little grin on his face and reached up to pull Marco in for a kiss. His lips tasted both sweet and tart, a nice mix that had Shanks leaning in closer. However, Marco hummed and pulled away soon after.

“I don’t want you falling into the food,” he said with a chuckle. “You’re--” He furrowed his brows when he looked down at Shanks’ apron and crossed his arms. “What is _that?”_

Shanks’ grin grew wider and he was holding back a laugh. “What, don’t you like it?” He was careful as he moved to stand in front of Marco so he’d have a better view.

Marco mumbled as he read the words. “Gobble me, swallow… _Shanks.”_

“What??”

Marco sighed and yanked the horrible piece of fabric open so he could take it off of Shanks. “What are you, a turkey?” he asked.

The simple gesture alone was enough to pique Shanks’ interest, if his cock getting hard was anything to go by. “Well, I’ve got juicy thighs like one,” he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Marco raised an eyebrow of his own and reached forward to squeeze Shanks’ thigh. “I’ll have to take a bite to test that statement,” he said. “Later, though. I’d like to enjoy the meal you’ve so kindly made.”

“I was kinda hoping you’d like to enjoy it _on_ me.”

“I told you, the food is hot. It’ll burn your skin.” Marco gave Shanks a pat on the ass like he had earlier before he continued. “...But maybe if there was a plate as a barrier, I would be more comfortable.”

“Say no more.” Shanks turned around to grab a plate and a cup before handing both to Marco. “What would you like to drink, dear?”

Marco sat down at the table, but didn’t put anything on his plate yet. Instead, he moved the food further away so there was room for Shanks to lay right in front of him. “Water is fine.”

Shanks brought the water jug over to the table and poured Marco a glass before he set it down. Then, he made his way back to his place on the table, resting on his back this time.

Marco leaned down for a kiss before he set the plate on top of Shanks’ lower stomach and the cup right between his thighs. “Please don’t knock this over.” Then, he started to take food to put on the plate, eyeing Shanks carefully. “How does that feel? Not too hot?”

Shanks was gazing up at Marco lovingly. “Darling, this is the hottest way I could ever imagine to spend a Thanksgiving meal with you.”

“I meant the temperature, dear.”

Shanks snickered. “It’s a little warm, but I’m comfortable,” he said. “I’ll let you know if it becomes scalding.”

“Thank you.” Marco smirked as he reached for his cup, letting his fingers brush against Shanks’ balls on the way. This made Shanks gasp. “Don’t let the plate fall.”

“No promises.”

Marco began eating his food, but paused when he thought of something. “Oh, I almost forgot the cranberry sauce.” He reached over for the spoon, and much to Shanks’ surprise, he started to smear a bit on Shanks’ chest.

“I like where this is going,” Shanks commented. 

Marco hummed. “Good. What about here, too?” He did the same for Shanks’ thighs, smearing a line of cranberry sauce up the interior of each one. 

Shanks nodded. “There is perfect, too.”

“Don’t get any of this on my cup.” Marco set the spoon back down, and then continued to eat his food. “And be patient.” With that, he took his time enjoying the meal Shanks had made, intentionally avoiding the cranberry sauce. Every now and then, his fingers would brush against Shanks’ now fully-erect cock, teasing the sensitive length any time he’d reach for his cup.

Shanks would make a comment every now and then, including one about how he wished his arm was on Marco’s side so he could tease him back. Threatening to give in and touch himself before Marco would give him a challenging stare that made his cock twitch. “Sorry, sir,” Shanks would then say playfully, though he’d keep his hand to himself.

This went on until Marco cleaned his plate and then stood. Before Shanks could protest, Marco leaned down to run his tongue along Shanks’ bare chest, cleaning up every inch of the maroon decoration and lingering on his nipple. The red-haired man gasped when Marco sucked as he pulled away with a ‘pop.’

“Damn, I wish I could’ve been able to eat the food off of you just like this. Would’ve been tastier,” Marco said. He moved to lap at Shanks’ thighs and gave it the same treatment he had given Shanks’ chest, making sure to clean every spot. 

“That was the plan, but _someone_ said the food was ‘too hot’ as some lame exu-ah!”

Shanks’ words were cut off when he felt a tongue continue from his thigh up to the tip of his cock, which soon slid right into Marco’s mouth. “Babe, I’m gonna… The plate, it…” He let out a shaky sigh. “You couldn’t have moved anything first? And I thought _I_ was impatient,” he said with a chuckle, which soon turned into a moan. “Maybe we should… move this to the bedroom.”

Marco pulled back with another lewd ‘pop’ and replaced his mouth with his hand pumping up and down. The slick sounds adding onto the sight was enough to make Shanks wish he could take back the suggestion. Luckily, Marco knew him well enough to not take it.

“No, I think this is the most appropriate place to enjoy my Shanksgiving dessert.” He winked before he took Shanks into his mouth again.

Perhaps this would become an annual tradition.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Kudos and comments are always appreciated! 💛  
> Also, come say hi to me on my [writing blog](https://bajillianwrites.tumblr.com/), where I post updates about what I'm working on!


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